


Victory

by another_maggies



Category: Riverdale (TV 2017)
Genre: Basically, Other, where I imagine Penelope and Claudius are chilling now that Cheryl's claimed Thistlehouse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-26
Updated: 2018-04-26
Packaged: 2019-04-28 05:32:12
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 273
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14442417
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/another_maggies/pseuds/another_maggies
Summary: This isn't what Penelope imagined life would be like when she sent her daughter away for good.





	Victory

“You've gotta give Cheryl one thing,” Claudius starts as he sits down in his chair for dinner. Penelope raises her eyebrow, demanding elaboration. “That girl knows how to make an appearance.”

He chuckles. His sister-in-law doesn't join in.

“I can't believe Sierra assisted her in this mad request to get emancipated,” Penelope mutters, still bitter about it.

Claudius shrugs. “This won't stand,” he puts in, chewing on his dinner, “Once the trial is over, and we've given all our statements, we'll move back into Thistlehouse and Cheryl will fly directly over the cuckoo's nest.”

Untypical for her, Penelope shrugs. “Sierra is a good attorney.”

“ _I'm_ a good attorney,” Claudius stresses.

The redhead next to him all but snorts. She still remembers the last time she put her trust in a Blossom man. Not fondly.

Blossom. It's a cursed name. If only she'd known this on her wedding day.

She takes a spoonful off her plate and lets it dribble back down. The pace of dribbling slower than it should be with soup. She wonders whether her daughter employs a cook.

“Well, you better be. I can't take another week of this.” She gestures around vaguely, her eyes skimming over the ground that used to uphold Thornhill as she does.

Claudius takes another spoon of his baked beans and gives them a thoughtful chewing. “I always liked camping in the holidays. Fishing, swimming –”

“Yes, _in the holidays_ ,” Penelope echoes coldly.

She sinks back in her camping chair. The fire is getting low. It's only seven. She sighs.

This isn't what she imagined life would be like when she sent her daughter away for good.

 

**Author's Note:**

> This image of Penelope and Clifford camping at Thornhill just popped into my head and I had to write it.


End file.
